Four Little Words
by Kia Vail-Kagami
Summary: A Blank/Zidane story set after the game. (Also a little Kuja/Zidane.) Shonen Ai, don't like, don't read. ^^ (Finished!)
1. prologue

Hi, it's me again! ^^ It's been a while since my last fic here and so I just thought I could post my FF9 story here because I found someone complaining about far too few Blank/Zidane fanfics here. (To what I absolutely agree. ^^)

It isn't very good anyway, just something I wrote when I was bored. Bad English, bad writing style, bad story. 's all fitting, isn't it… ^^  Oh, Well!

Warning: Shonen Ai (slight spoiler?)

Disclaimer: Not mine. Was never, will never be, and noone would ever think that anyway, so it is pretty useless to mention it. ^^

Four Little Words 

By Kia

It's cold. That happens from time to time, especially so high above the earth but it is hardly ever _that_ cold. I normally don't care about low temperature but the cold wind that comes in through the open window makes me snuggle even deeper into my coat I usually don't even bother wearing.

Zidane doesn't seem to mind. He is sitting there, on the windowsill, with the icy wind playing with his hair and his far too thin clothes. He doesn't seem to notice. Doesn't seem to notice that his hands are already turned blue from the cold.

He hasn't moved since I came here and probably not for a long time before. He just sits there, staring at the darkening sky out there while seeing nothing at all, totally shut out from the world even though he must have heard it when I entered.

I know what he's thinking about.

I know _who_ he's thinking about.

And I don't like it a bit.

Zidane has never been someone who let himself be pulled down by something, at least not openly. That he is so obviously grieving now, open for all the world to see and not giving a second thought about it only shows how much his brothers death had hurt him.

How much he had loved him…

It's still a mystery to me how he could possibly have loved someone like that. Some cold hearted, arrogant bastard who more than once tried to kill him. Not to mention the fact that they are brothers which I don't give a damn about. As far as I care he could have been an alien living on the moon, it wouldn't make any difference. If someone hurts my Zidane I can't stand him, no matter who he might be. And if my Zidane loves someone I also can't stand him.

Selfish? Of course. But who realistically isn't? Who the fuck would be happy if the person they love most in the world is in love with someone else?

Especially when that certain someone is in fact some kind of psychopathic murderer.

I can only hope that there was at least a little feeling aside from hatred for Zidane in that heart of ice. But, however, even if there was, he doesn't deserve this. Doesn't deserve Zidanes love. Doesn't deserve his grieve, the tears I'm sure he had shed for him when nobody was looking.

At least he did ask for his brothers forgiveness. And he got it. Even though I don't always understand it, in Zidane's eyes everyone deserves a second chance. A chance Kuja hasn't really got because he died. That's what _I_ think he deserved.

I'm too hard? Who cares? I look at my friend and I just want to cry for what I see and that's all Kuja's fault so who can possibly blame me for not liking him?

God, it's freezing. The air is so cold it hurts my lungs and every breath forms a little cloud in front of my face as if wanting to become one with the mist. It is beyond my imagination why anyone would want to leave open a window by such a temperature. But Zidane just sits there on the windowsill and only the occasional movement of his tail shows that he is still alive.

His legs are hanging outside with nothing but some fivehundred meters of air beneath them, making me fear that by any second he might fall down. Or jump.

And even though I don't really think he would do something like that I can't help but to walk up to him and warp my arms around his slender body that feels so cold under my touch, colder even than the air around us. As cold as Kuja's heart maybe, but then I don't think that's ever possible.

Not even in death.

Death.

I try to push that word out of my mind.

I try not to look out of the window.

I try not to show how worried I am about him jumping down there.

I try to make myself belief that he would never do that.

In the end I fail.

He is surprised, hadn't thought I would actually touch him, I can tell from his reaction, even though his only reaction is him getting stiff for less than a heartbeat before relaxing again.

For a few seconds neither of us moves while I am standing there in the cold wind and all I can feel is his body pressed against mine. Then he turns his head to look at me and that smile is on his face again as if it had never dissapered. There isn't a single hint of sadness written on his face if one didn't look into his eyes too deeply.

Put the mask down, Zidane. I know you better than that.

"What's the matter, Blank?" he asks. "Got lonely without me?"

It is a joke but it isn't too far from the truth. Of course he doesn't know that. He is confused by my arms around him, I can feel it, but they aren't going to leave there until he is in here again and the window is closed.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to fall out here or something like that." he says in a light tone as if he read my mind. I know he wouldn't fall. Falling isn't exactly what I'm worried about.

"I know."

"So, what do you want?" He wants to be alone, I know it even though he's good at not showing it. He wants me to leave. I'm not going to. Not without him.

What do I want? I'd have a thousand answers for that but no words to voice them. What do I want?

What could I possibly say to him? I could say that I want him to leave that window. That I want him to stop hiding his feelings. That I want him to stop being sad. To stop thinking of Kuja.

That I want him to love me.

In the end I say nothing.

I don't think I'll ever be able to answer this question. Four little words. 'What do you want?'

So simple. So pathetic. So impossible.

I don't think he'll ever be able to believe me.

But he doesn't resist as I carefully pull him back in, as I warp my coat around him and close the window. He's still smaller than me. Little boy.

He suddenly shudders and snuggles against me, trembling violently as if he only now, pressed against my warm body, notices how cold it had been. His skin feels like ice.

I suddenly realise that I'm hoping he would start to cry. Even if it was for Kuja. So he won't have to do it alone.

But I know he isn't going to. Not now, when I'm here for him. So I'm pretty sure the single tear that left his eye when I hugged him was caused by the wind.

I'm not going to ask him.

"Let's go to some place where the air hasn't turned to ice." I suggest instead and Zidane only nods and doesn't leave my side as I lead him away from the window and out of the air that filled the room, too cold for anyone to bear.

-owari-

05.21.2002

Well, I guess it isn't too hard to see that I have yet to see the end of the game and am not too well informed about it. But I think that isn't too important for this story anyway. (I know this fic isn't good, but I kinda like it for some unknown reason. I want to do another. *sniffles*)

By the way, I don't have anything against Kuja. In fact, I like him al lot.^^


	2. chapter 1

The story 'Four Little Words' was meant to be an one shot, but since I was asked to continue and had some ideas too, I decided to write them down. Anyway, this is my first story of that kind in English and I was often at a loss for words. It shows in the story, but I tried my best so please have mercy. ^^ Maybe I'll get better in the next parts. I _hope_!! ^^ 

As you can see I changed the time as well as the POV in this part. (In Fact, there is no POV anymore. ^^) It has something to do with not planning this as a longer story and such. (It's my first multi-chapter fic ever and I'm not good at it.) So the first part would be some kind of prologue, I think.

Chapter I

By Kia

***  ***

Zidane sneezed.

Blank looked up from the book he was reading and saw him frown.

„I think I managed to catch a cold..." the blond noticed, a hint of disbelief as well as anger in his voice. Blank grimaced.

„Well, no surprise after you decided to spend the afternoon trying to become some kind of weather vane." he said dryly.

Marcus, who was sitting in an armchair a few meters away  looked at him questioning but Zidane only stuck out his tongue before he stretched his arms up in the air and went over to the door.

„It's nice being here again." he stated, speaking of the fact that they had finally reached Lindblum two hours ago. „I'm gonna celebrate it at Lario's..."

„...hoping to get some free drinks, I guess." Marcus cut him off, smirking. Everyone knew that Lario's wife, who also worked at his bar thought that Zidane was the cutest being alive and was always willing to mix him every drink he wanted for free.

Zidane shrugged.

„Or maybe some more." he grinned and sneezed again. „Want to join me?"

Marcus shook his head and so did Blank. The redhead was tired and not in the mood to go out this evening, and even though he was still a little worried about his friend the younger boy had obviously gotten over his former depression and was finally up to his cheerful, hyperactive nature again. Or so it seemed. Blank was very well aware that most of his behaviour was probably only part of the mask he used to wear to distract his friends, but it was still better than him giving in to depression and this way Blank didn't have to worry about him jumping out of windows or something like that. Beside that he had noticed that Zidane didn't seem to be too disappointed about their refusal and probably wanted to go alone, to spend some time with people he didn't see every day. So Blank said something about wanting to finish his book before the person he had ‚borrowed' it from found out it was gone and took it back. Said person was Marcus anyway, some fact that the older one however didn't seem to notice.

So Zidane only waved goodbye, sneezed once more and left.

„I don't think he'll return before tomorrow afternoon." Marcus voiced what they were both thinking. „However, even if he's dead drunk, Lario will probably let him sleep under the table until he's able to walk straight again."

„And then comes his dear wife with a harmless good morning drink and everything starts anew." Blank agreed. They both laughed. „Better say he's not gonna return before next week."

„And when he finally comes back again Baku will kill him." Marcus grinned. Then he suddenly became serious. „Blank," he said. „Did you notice anything strange about Zidane lately?"

Blank frowned.

„What do you mean?" he asked, suddenly feeling uneasy. Marcus looked at him and grimaced.

„I think you know very well what I mean." he stated. „He's acting strange. For him, I mean." The older boy sighed. „He looks so sad sometimes and he hasn't eaten for days. You must've noticed that. Even Baku did."

Of course had he noticed that, but right now he didn't want to talk about it. After Blank had taken his friend away from the cold place at the window and to some warmer place a few hours ago Zidane had all of a sudden started to act normal again, and even though Blank knew that he had just put up his mask once more he had accepted the fact that the younger boy had no desire to talk about whatever was on his mind. At least not now and as far as Blank knew him probably never. So he himself also did not want to talk about Zidane's problem, especially not to Marcus. Right now he tried to forget that those problems even existed.

So he only shrugged and looked at his book again but failed to register anything he read.

„Do you think it has anything to do with his brother?" Marcus asked again after a few minutes of silence and his words stuck the redhead like a knife. He winced and turned to look at his friend. Marcus was frowning at him.

„So you do." he noticed without any surprise.

"So what? It's none of our busyness, anyway!" Damn, didn't that guy see that he was trying to avoid this topic? Well, either that or he had decided to ignore it because the next second he asked:

"Do you know how he died?"

"Of course not!" Blank shouted back. He was really losing his temper now and, god, he hated it! He didn't even know exactly _why_ those words made him so angry. "Do you think Zidane would tell me _anything_ about that? Do you think he has even _mentioned_ Kuja's name since he came back? I don't know any more than you do: They disappeared for a few weeks, Zidane came back and Kuja's dead, and as fare as I care that's okay with me! May he rot in hell, that bastard!" He noticed suddenly that was almost screaming those words in Marcus face and tried to calm down a little. This wasn't good, why was he so upset about this?

Marcus only stared at him wide eyed.

"Blank?" he asked carefully. "Are you okay?"

Blank swallowed.

"Yes, of course." he said in a low voice. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter." Luckily, the older one didn't seem to be angry at him. "Avoid that topic?"

"You got it!" Blank managed a tiny smile. Finally.

They fell silent again and Blank finally managed to concentrate on his book again which was, he noticed, pretty good at the moment. Marcus was writing something into his block, and whatever it was, it kept him busy.  At least for some time. After a while he stopped writing and stared at Blank thoughtfully, as if trying to figure out what to write next.

"Say, Blank," he asked suddenly, suspicion in his voice. "What are you reading there, anyway?"

The redhead swallowed while at the same time he tried not to grin.

"Well…"

-tbc-

05.27.2002

Arg, I know it's bad and I know the characters are pretty OOC but it's all I can do right now… T_T

And if anyone is reading this at all, sorry the chapter is so short. I'll try to write the next part as soon as possible…


	3. chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I know there aren't many people who actually read this story but I would continue it even if there was only one person who liked it. ^^ 

So here's the next chapter.

Chapter II 

By Kia

*** ***

It had started to rain. Blank hadn't even noticed as the first drops of water had made their way down from above and not for quite some time after. He was too busy reading his book which he had managed to keep just a little longer despite Marcus' protest and which was very good for keeping his mind off other things, and so it was almost an hour after Zidane had left that his gaze fell finally out of the window and onto the wet stones of the street, shimmering in the light of the street lamps. The low growling of thunder could be heard in the distance and it made him shudder for a second, feeling like a bad omen or something. Like a warning that the world was going to end soon, a sign of upcoming disaster. Blank frowned once more, tearing his eyes off the window almost forcefully. He usually liked thunderstorms, so why was he so nervous about it all of a sudden? He just wasn't himself this evening.

It wasn't even two minutes after he started to read again that the door suddenly flew open, causing both him and Marcus to jump to their feet in shock, starring at the person who came in while at the same time instinctively looking around for anything that could serve as a weapon if needed.

But it was only Lario, the bar owner who came in without knocking, a serious, even worried look on his face as he stepped through the door, water dripping onto the floor from his hair and clothes. In his arms he carried the limp form of a young boy, whose hair was just as wet as Lario's while his body was warped up in the cloak of the large man, looking so frail against in the strong arms of the man holding him.

"Zidane!"

It wasn't until Marcus' concerned cry that Blank finally got over his shock and was able to move again, immediately running over to the older man who was now laying his burden down onto the couch.

"What happened?" he asked, his concern all too clearly in his voice as he looked at his younger friend. Zidane was pale, unmoving, his eyes closed and his breathing low. _God, please let him be okay!_ As Blank placed a hand on his forehead he found it burning with fever. "Zidane…"

"What happened?" Marcus echoed Blank's question. "Is he that drunk already?" Judging from the sound of the voice he didn't believe that himself, so it was an useless question and Lario only shook his head.

"He only finished his first drink when he suddenly started to cough violently and collapsed. Camilla almost had a heart attack." 

Blank didn't doubt that for one second. Camilla was Lario's wife and beside the fact that she was very fond of Zidane no-one used to be happy when somebody was knocked out by a drink they mixed. Though Blank didn't really think that his friends condition was caused by whatever it was Camilla had made for him.

***

Fife minutes later Lario picked Zidane up again and helped Blank putting him to bed while Marcus ran off to find Baku and the others – wherever they might be at the moment. After he made sure that Zidane wasn't likely to die within the next hours the large man went back to his bar and left Blank alone with his friend, the rain that was still falling against the window and an almost painful feeling of guilt in his heart.

It _was_ his fault, wasn't it? After all he _had_ known that Zidane had been out in the cold for hours and like Marcus had said, he hadn't really eaten for days. So it was no surprise that he got sick. Yet, noone of them had seen it. Why had noone seen it? Looking back Blank found that Zidane had already been quite pale when he left, yet even with all his sneezing he hadn't for one second thought that it could be any more than a mere cold.

If he had only seen it. If he had known something was wrong he wouldn't have let him go alone. He wouldn't even have let him go out at all. How could he have been so blind?

An extra loud thunder pushed him out of his thoughts. The redhead automatically looked out of the window and up to the dark sky to see it being torn by lightning. Zidane stirred softly and mumbled something Blank couldn't understand but he didn't woke up.

Blank carefully placed a hand on his forehead. Still hot. He sighed and wished for a damp cloth or something else to cool down the fever. But there wasn't anything like that around here and somehow the boy didn't want to leave his friend. He knew it was stupid, sill he couldn't bring himself to leave Zidane for even two minutes.

If only he hadn't let him sit out there in the wind like that for so long.

If only he had gone with  him to the bar. If only he hadn't been so lazy.

"I'm sorry…" he mumbled, though  he knew Zidane couldn't hear him. To his surprise he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault." Marcus said. Blank hadn't even heard him coming. Had he been so lost in his thoughts?

It didn't matter. The older boy was wrong anyway.

"It is." he said. "I should have gone with him. What if he hadn't even made it to the bar but had broken down earlier? Then he would be sill lying out there in the rain and we wouldn't even had gotten the idea to search for him. He could have…" He broke off. Stopped himself before he could say the next word. For he didn't want to hear it.

Marcus shook his head and tied a smile. It didn't work.

"If you see it like this it is also my fault." he said, looking at Zidane. "But whether it is or not, thinking about 'what ifs' doesn't help." Well, there was some truth in that but it didn't help either, didn't make anything better, not for Blank. He finally looked up and found them alone in the room. Marcus returning alone meant that he hadn't found the others. It wasn't any surprising, for it was a big city and they could have gone anywhere, but right now Blank would have been glad if they'd been here.

Marcus noticed his looking around and interpreted it right.

"They'll end up at Lario's Bar sooner or later." he said. "Then Camilla will send them here. I spoke to her."

"Thank you." Blank answered, though he didn't quite knew why he said that. He quickly turned away again to look at Zidane again who hadn't moved since Marcus came in and just seemed so small and frail as he lay there.

'_Please let him be okay!' he thought even though he didn't knew who he was talking to. If there was any god in the sky above them he didn't like him nor did he like Zidane. He had proved that often enough._

After a minute Marcus sighed and turned around. Blank didn't bother to look up as he felt him leave.

"I'm going to get a cloth and some cold water for sleeping beauty here." he said and left the room.

Blank didn't even hear him.

-tbc-

05.31.2002

Could it be that my writing just gets worse with every part I finish? I'm really having trouble with the grammar in this story… I shouldn't writhe something I'm not good at, so this will probably be my last story with more that one chapter – at least for a pretty long time… T_T


	4. chapter 3

Yeah, it's me again. I just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed (I know I did that before but I just can't do it often enough. ^^) and all the people who ever offered to beta-read my stories. (It's been two altogether…^^) I'm sorry, I just cant accept that (even though it's needed, I know.) but thanks anyway.

Chapter III 

By Kia

*** ***

It was cold. That was the first thought that came to Zidane's mind as he woke up from some strange dream he didn't really remember, nor did he want to. All he knew was that it wasn't that kind of dream he liked but that kind of dream that was close to a nightmare yet not quite bad enough to cross that line, something lost forever in between, that was at the same time too close to reality to not leave a bad aftertaste even a long time after waking up. But whatever it might have been it had disappeared on the way back to reality, had vanished into a sea of darkness and half-forgotten memories, leaving only a vague feeling of desperation in his chest, a feeling of endless searching for something that was lost forever even though he didn't know anymore what exactly it was he had lost then, nor did he care.

Maybe it had just been his heart.

There was a dizzy feeling in his head and as he opened his eyes everything was spinning around him.

He was lying on a bed, on _his_ bed, he noticed as he carefully moved his head only enough to look around. Strange, he didn't remember getting here, somewhere at Lario's bar his memory just stopped. Had he drunken so much?

But it didn't feel like a hangover. It felt like a mixture of the flu, pneumonia and food poisoning and every bone in his body seemed to ache. And he felt so weak. Maybe sitting by the open window hadn't  been such a good idea but he hadn't really cared than and he didn't now. If only his head wouldn't hurt so much…

He opened his eyes once more, though even the dim light seemed to hurt. Pale, grey light of a clouded afternoon. The room seemed so dark in it, so cold yet it was also kinda comforting to him. Everything seemed so calm in this light, so unimportant, as if the entire world was frozen in time and there was nothing wrong, nothing to care about.

Only now did he notice the figure sitting beside him, his head resting on his folded arms on his bed so that he could see little more than his hair. Red and spiky. Blank. Apparently asleep. He wondered what he was doing here. But it was so hard to think straight when everything was a fuzzy mess in his head.

His eyes closed again, of their own as if they decided that they wouldn't like the light anymore but he didn't mind and welcomed the darkness as it came back to him.

***

When he woke the next time Blank was gone.

It was darker than before, not really dark as it was at night but the shade of the light that filled the room was already closer to black than to grey.

He was feeling better. Not much, but enough that he could move his head without whimpering in pain, and after a few minutes he even made the effort of sitting up.

Immediately the room started spinning before his eyes but he just stopped moving and waited for the world to calm down around him. After a few moments it did.

Standing up was another thing. Every part of his body seemed to hurt when he moved it and as his feet touched the wooden floor beneath him a wave of nausea washed over him, nearly making him vomit all over the bed. But he managed to suppress it, somehow, and after a while this feeling also passed, leaving nothing but weakness and a light feeling in this head. Even the pain had disappeared into some hidden corner of his mind where he could easily ignore it.

He felt so empty, suddenly.

As if without the pain there was nothing left of him

Somehow he managed to get to his feet and – very slowly – move over to the window without stumbling. It just seemed so incredible far away all of a sudden.

The window was closed, but he opened it and leaned forward, into the wind that was still blowing, not as strong as yesterday but just as freezing. Some ice to fill the empty void inside him.

The sun was setting, but it was hidden behind a thick layer of dark grey clouds so he couldn't see it. He didn't want to.

It had been raining, he could tell, the streets were still wet and the air was clam and smelled like rain. The weather was fitting to his mood. 

Dark, cold and empty. Especially empty. He knew, if he reached deep inside his soul he'd find nothing but the dying echo of emotions that might once have been there.

The only other thing he found inside himself was the bitter feeling of being left behind, mingled with regret because he knew that it was his own fault. If only he hadn't said it. If only he had seen it coming. If only he hadn't been such an idiot.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered, as if the person he was talking to could hear him. His eyes filled with tears as he looked up to the grey sky, but he didn't feel like crying so the tears must have been caused by the wind. The wind.

"I didn't mean it! Come back, you idiot!" He was speaking louder now, would've screamed if he had the strength for it and he wondered why his voice sounded so strange. Angry but also a little desperate, like a lost little boy screaming for his mother. And his voice moved up towards the sky but the sky didn't answer and the world was spinning again, around him, faster and faster until there was not difference anymore between anything and then everything went black.

***

Blank cursed silently as he tried to open the door without dropping the tablet he was carrying.

He had left Zidane's room only ten minutes ago, after he had woken up from a light slumber and realised how hungry he was.  He hadn't wanted to leave the sick boy, but of course he was alone again, while everyone else had disappeared somewhere in the city. Only Cinna was still there but he had dozed off on the sofa which meant that not even a war could wake him up right now. So Blank had to go himself since there wasn't anyone else he could have send to bring him something. Oh, yes, he would have suppressed his hunger until he starved, hadn't Zidane's fever gone down when he'd woken up. In fact the other boy had looked as if he was also going to wake up anytime soon so the redhead thought that maybe he'd be hungry too then. So he had left the room, hastily made something that could be called a meal if one had a tiny little bit of fantasy and returned as soon as possible. He wasn't prepared for the sight that lay before him as he finally managed to open the door.

Zidane was lying on the floor, right under the open window, motionless and pale, like dead. Blank cried out his name in shock and the tablet scattered onto the floor.

He started screaming for anyone to come here and help as he headed over to his fallen friend, yet he had little to no hope that Cinna would hear him.

Zidane didn't stir as Blank kneeled down beside him and placed a hand on his forehead. His skin was cold as ice.

"Oh, please, not again." the redhead murmured to himself as he carefully moved his arms under Zidane's shoulders and the back of his knees and the picked him up to carry him back to bed. He felt like a child in his arms, far too light for someone his age. They really had to make him eat something once he got better….

After he had tugged the younger boy under the cover Blank went back to the window to close it. And when he returned to Zidane's bedside it was just in time to hear him mumble something in his sleep, something Blank tried to understand at first and tired to forget after he succeeded.

"…ja…" was the first thing the redhead made out and the next was, more clearly: "…I'm sorry…"

For some reason his heart turned to ice at those words.

"Don't be." he whispered and didn't know why he said it.

-tbc-

06.04.2002


	5. chapter 4

Well, here's chapter 4. Sorry it took so long for me to write it, but I'm lazy and beside that I was busy with translating the first two chapter of Mirri's Final Fantasy 7 - 10 yaoi crossover. (Read it, it's good. Only the translation is crappy. T_T) But even though my English isn't that good and it takes some time and some help of the dictionary I hope she lets me translate the next parts too. It's fun. ^^

Chapter IV 

By Kia 

*** ***

"Has anyone of you seen Cinna or Marcus around here?" Blank asked as he entered the bar, because one look around the room had told him that obviously they weren't here. They weren't here. Baku had told him to go and call them home. He'd told him they'd be at Lario's bar and they weren't. Blank felt a bit like an idiot. Why was he send here when they were elsewhere?

Lario looked at him and grinned a little.

"They left two minutes ago. Wanted to go home, I think." he told him. Blank rolled his eyes.

"Thanks." He turned to leave.

"How's Zidane?" Lario asked just as he opened the door. The redhead grimaced a little.

"Better," he said and added after a few seconds: "A little."

"Well, that's nice. Camilla will be glad to hear that."

Blank only nodded and left.

On his way back he couldn't help but curse Baku for sending him away just when they had found a doctor who was actually willing to look for Zidane. The only other doctor in Lindblum didn't want to have anything to do with Tantalus since he thought he wouldn't get paid. Blank cursed him too.

As he opened the door the thought crossed his mind that maybe Baku had send him away just _because_ there was finally a doctor here. Even that old guy had noticed that Blank was even more worried about his friend than the others, and so he probably didn't want to have him around in case the doc told them something he wouldn't like. That thought made sense and Blank cursed him even more. He cursed a lot theses days. 

Marcus was sitting in the same armchair he'd been sitting in the evening Zidane got ill and was torturing his writers block again. He looked up when the door opened and told the other boy that the doctor had just left two minutes ago. Blank grimaced once again and came to the conclusion that two wasn't his lucky number today.

"And? What did he say?" he asked as he stepped in. Marcus shrugged.

"I wasn't there," he explained. "Ask Baku."

"What hid he say." Blank asked again and looked at Baku who right then happened to come in. There was a hint of anger in his voice and the older man looked at him sceptically.

"He said it's nothing stupid kinds like you'd have to worry about." he stated. "He'd seen it before and even though it's quite serious four people out of five use to survive it."

If his words were meant to reassure him it didn't work. Four out of five! That meant one had do die of it, didn't it?

He didn't know what to say to that so he only frowned at Baku and left the room.

***

Zidane was still sleeping when Blank entered the room and sat down on the chair beside his bed again. He took his lifeless hand into his own, larger one and his skin felt so cold, scaring him for a second. Only the faint rise and fall of his chest showed that he was still alive.

The younger boy looked like he was just sleeping peacefully. Blank wondered if he was dreaming of Kuja again and his heart twisted painfully at the thought. The redhead suddenly realised that he made Kuja responsible for all of this. If whatever had happened to him wouldn't make Zidane so unhappy, he wouldn't be in such a bad shape now, would he? Four out of five. Those words just wouldn't leave his head.

But Zidane was always on the lucky side, wasn't he. He was strong, he wouldn't be killed by something like that. But still, hadn't he been worried about him jumping off a ship just two day's ago? What if Zidane didn't _want_ to survive it?

Blank pushed that thought out of his mind – or at least he tried to. It disappeared into some hidden corner of his mind but stayed there to come out again at any given time.

Blank ignored it for the moment. He placed his hand on his friends forehead, then softly passed his finger down his cheek. His skin was soft, though cold, but he knew that the fever would come back in no time.

His lips were slightly parted and Blank wondered how it would feel like to kiss them. He knew he would probably never do it. Though he wanted to for a long time already.

He wondered it Kuja had ever done it.

"Please wake up," he whispered, a slightly sad look on his face. Four out of five. What if he'd just die without ever waking up again? He was probably worrying too much, he knew it but he was helpless against it.

He'd wanted to stay awake in case Zidane'd wake up again or something but after a while fatigue took over him and he slept in, those four words still ringing through his head.

***

He woke up to something moving beside him and found it to be Zidane, not awake as hoped in the first second but tossing around in his sleep, very obviously having a nightmare. His cheeks were wet with tears and he was softly whimpering as if in pain. Blank was very awake suddenly. He placed his hands onto Zidane's shaking shoulders, carefully holding him down so he wouldn't hurt himself. Even through the fabric of his clothes he could feel that the fever was back again.

"Hey!" he said softly. "Hey, Zid, wake up, okay?"

He hadn't really thought that the boy would actually do so but after a second or two he opened his eyes a bit and looked at Blank through his tears.

"Kuja…." he whispered. Blank swallowed.

"No… it's me, Blank, you know? Zidane?"

Zidane's eyes became a bit clearer.

"Blank?"

"Yes, how…" He never got to finish question for in this moment Zidane's body suddenly came up and he fell forward into Blanks arms. The red harried boy was more than surprised when he felt him cry openly into his chest.

"I'm sorry!" the blond sobbed. "I didn't mean to…"

Blank knew he was talking about his brother but that very much was it. He also knew that this was probably his only chance to ever find out what actually had happened in those few weeks the two of them were gone to wherever they might have been.

"Hey, Zid, 's okay!" he said softly, gently stroking his long blond hair and pulling him even closer with the other hand. "Just what happened? Tell me."

"I can't…" came the choked reply after a few seconds.

"You can! Please! I want to help you!" Blank knew that it was only because of Zidane's weak state that the boy finally lost the last bit of control over himself, but after a minute of silence he took a deep breath and told, between sobs and with long pauses the story of his short time with his brother and the reason why, in the end, he died.

-tbc-

06,09,2002

He he, sorry. I had planned to kill poor Kuja in this chapter but now he has to wait until the next one.

Arg, this story is really hard to write for me. When I decided to continue it I already knew how it was going to end, but I still don't know how exactly to get there. T_T


	6. chapter 5

So! Finally!

Sorry it took me so long to write the next part, but since FFN wasn't working all the time I had no reason to write and... well, okay, yes, I'm lazy. ^^ Will you forgive me?

Chapter V 

By Kia

*** ***

Night had fallen. Again.

Was it really only two days ago, that it all started?

It felt like much longer.

It was silent. Only very little noise came up from the street and into the dark room. At this time, closer to dawn than to dusk, the city was like dead. Even the wind had stopped.

Blank still sat on Zidane's bed with his friend sleeping in his lap, sweat-damp blond hair plastered onto his pale face. The boy had not spoken much at all, told him just as much as he had to know to understand what happened and Blank hadn't asked for more since the words seemed to hurt him. After that he had just held him until Zidane drifted off to sleep again and also after, for a very long time it seemed because the sky outside went form grey to dark grey and then to black without him noticing it. In his mind he was trying to kit the few things Zidane had said him to a whole story, trying to understand what he had actually told him.

After what the boy had let him know he and Kuja had been staying in some small village somewhere after Zidane had managed to save his brother from that stupid tree, so that guy could recover a little. Apparently they'd gotten closer during that time, though Zidane didn't tell much about that. Blank had known that he had loved his brother before, that he'd fallen in love with him even before their last fight against him. '_He isn't a bad person!_' Only Zidane could say something like that.

But what had Kuja's feelings been? Blank used to belief that his little brother meant nothing to him but now he wasn't so sure anymore. The last words Zidane had whispered before he'd slept in, more to himself than to the redhead were still running through his mind.

'_He said that he loved me…_' Was it possible that this was actually the truth?

However, even after all that happened Kuja still hadn't seemed to understand what he had done, how many lives he'd destroyed, how much tragedy he'd brought to the world. So Zidane had tried to tell him. To make him see how wrong it was what he had done.

And in the end Kuja had understood. In the end he had really seen what the death of every single person meant. And that he was responsible for so much grieve and pain. Only then, when he himself had someone who loved him for the first time, someone he seemed to care about too, he was able to understand the pain of the people whose beloved one died a senseless death because of him.

He understood too well.

It seemed to Blank that this guilt was just too much for him too bear, or maybe, that he decided that he didn't deserve to life and be happy when he was responsible for so much pain. However it was, one morning Zidane'd woken up and Kuja was dead, apparently killed by himself. Not an undeserved fate in Blanks opinion but then he just had to think about what it meant to Zidane. It was pretty obvious that he made himself responsible for it, and it was killing him. Loosing someone he cared about was just hard enough for him, but for Zidane who always said that one doesn't need a reason to help people being guilty for the death of the person he loved was just too much.

'_He said that he loved me…_'

Blank sighed softly and gently stroked Zidane's hair. Loosing a beloved person was hard, indeed. He suddenly felt so very tired.

Just that moment the door opened and Marcus appeared in it, a dark shadow outlined by the light that fell in from outside. Blank was a little surprised as the older one walked in since he'd thought everybody was already asleep. 

Well, judging from the tired expression on Marcus face he _had_ been asleep just five minutes ago. Blank only at him questioningly and Marcus only stared back at him and the boy in his arms for about one minute. Then he walked over to the bed and carefully took Zidane out of his arms and lay him back into a normal position. Then he looked at the unmoving boy thoughtfully while Blank was still staring at him, wondering why he had done that and also a little angry though he didn't knew why.

But before he say something, Marcus spoke, his eyes never leaving the sleeping form on the bed.

"You know, I think he is indeed quite pretty when he's asleep." he said quietly to no wake the others. Then he finally took his eyes off Zidane and looked at Blank, smiling a little. "I guess, I can almost understand you." His smile turned into a slight grin.

Blank frowned. 

"What do you mean?" he asked suspicious. Marcus grin grew a bit wider and he patted his friends head.

"Do you think I'm blind? You care pretty obviously a little too much for our little boy here than a mere friend should. But why not? I mean, Zid's a cutie an' all…" He thought for a second while Blank still tried to figure out what to say. He was more or less speechless. Then Marcus finished thinking. "But, you'd better not let the boss notice it. He'd just kill you or something…." His face became serious again and he changed the topic before the redhead could say anything. "Go to bed," he commanded simply. "You need to sleep too."

"No." Blank answered and decided to forget that other thing for the moment for he found nothing to say about it that didn't sod totally stupid. "I'll stay here."

Marcus shook his head and sighed. 

"Zidane won't die if you leave him alone for a few hours." he said.

"But! Remember what happened the last time I left him alone?"

"We can tie him to the bed if that makes you feel better…"

Blank only stared at him.

"You're kidding!"

"Of course I am." Marcus shrugged. "Sleep in his bed if you want to. Should be large enough for both of you. Just sleep a little, unless you want to pass out just when he really needs you or somethin'." With that he just turned around and left, closing the door behind him.

Blank frowned again. He hated it when somebody treated him like a child, but then again his words made sense after all, not to mention that he _was_ tired. So after a second or two he carefully lay down beside his sleeping friend, trying to use as little space as possible. He closed his eyes and for some reason if felt kinda good lying here, so close beside him. They had often shared a bed when they were little but now it was different. He hadn't been in love with Zidane then. The thought made him smile a little and he softly caressed the boys face with one finger before he finally closed his eyes.

'_He said that he loved me…_'

Why, just why, where his eyes suddenly filled with tears?

***

It was a nice afternoon. The bad weather of the last two weeks had finally gone away and it was slowly getting warmer. The sky was finally blue again and even Blank was in a good mood this day.

His good mood, however, had mostly to do with  Zidane who was right now siting on his bed complaining about why he wasn't allowed to leave it. Nine days had passed since he had gotten sick and since yesterday he was finally feeling better again. Baku had even tried to make him eat something this morning but forgot that idea pretty quickly after Zidane had vomited most of in onto the floor just two minutes later. Of course Blank had been the one who had to clean it up with the others standing around and making fun of him.

Three day's ago Lario's wife Camilla had showed up for a quick visit and had given Blank something for Zidane, something in a bottle that smelled strongly like alcohol, so Blank had decided to better not tell Zidane about it after he'd woken up. In the end Baku and Marcus and sacrificed themselves and 'got rid' of that stuff, as they called it. Such brave heroes…

Right now Blank sat behind his friend on the bed and was busy brushing his hair which hung openly over his shoulders for once, while Zidane was playing with the small bottle of medicine the doctor had given them, occasionally smelling on it to make a disgusted face afterwards.

"Stop playing around and take you're your medication." Blank commended from behind him.

"But it smells like a long dead animal!" Zidane protested and coughed.

"I don't care what it smells like!" Well, at least he wasn't the one who had to take it. "You'll take it, it was far too expensive to waste it. Beside, it will help you getting better so you can leave this bed sooner."

"Or it will kill me…" Zidane muttered but he let some drops of the light green fluid fall into a glass of water and, after a few deep breaths, he drank all of it at once. After that he grimaced and shuddered. "I haven't tasted anything that bad since I was stupid enough to taste your first try at cooking." he stated. Blank looked at him angrily. Okay, so it _had_ been the first time he had tried to cook and maybe he wasn't the best cook in the world, but was his cooking really _that_ bad? Well, according to everyone else, it was…

That didn't keep him from pulling Zidane's hair right after he finished brushing it.

"Be nice!" he said.

"I am!" 

"Since when?" asked Blank and pulled again. "You just keep making fun of everyone and getting sick like that without a warning and scaring everyone also isn't exactly nice."

"Ah! You were scared? For _me_? Aww, Blank, that's so sweet!" Zidane teased and turned his head to grin into his face. Blank frowned at him.

"See, you're doing it again!" he scolded. "And no, _I_ wasn't scared. The others were, but no me. I wouldn't complain if you'd just die so you can't annoy me anymore."

Zidane gave him a quiet laugh.

"So you _were_ scared." he noted. Blank wanted to protest but Zidane just shook his head and looked at him with a strange expression in his eyes. "Don't worry," he said and smiled oh so sweetly, but for some reason his smile seemed so honest, so serious. "I'm not going to leave you without saying goodbye."

Blank swallowed, suddenly feeling uneasy.

"Whatever," he snorted for he didn't know what else to say. Zidane's smile grew into a grin again.

"You are an idiot, Blank!" he said.

"Why that?!"

"Because I say so."

"That isn't a reason!"

"It is." Zidane looked over to the window, the grin still on his face, obviously satisfied that he had once more managed to annoy his friend. But his grin faded suddenly and he started coughing again and Blank, who was just about to smack him over the head with the hairbrush stopped as his coughing suddenly grew worse. Zidane's hands were pressed on his mouth, his  eyes wide open, staring at nothing and then they suddenly rolled back and he fell against Blank, who could only stare in shock at his friend and the blood that was suddenly smeared onto his face and hands.

"Oh, shit!" he whispered. He was no doctor or something but he knew that coughing up blood was always bad. Very bad in fact. "Hey, Zidane!" he said helplessly, shaking the boy a little. Now he _was_ scared! "Can you hear me? Don't do this, okay!?"

Zidane didn't react, only lay against his chest like a dead weight and his breathing sounded as if he was going to suffocate right now. 

"HEY!" Blank screamed suddenly, not noticing the hint of panic in his voice. "BOSS! MARCUS, ANYONE! 

HELP!"

-tbc-

06.30.2002

So, it's finally done. This one took me a bit longer to write than to other chapters, but since it is also a lot longer than the others I think it's okay. Actually I finished it about two minutes after FFN went down for another two weeks. That was so frustrating! T_T And do you know what? Only two more chapters and one epilogue and this stupid fic is finished. ^^


	7. chapter 6

I really needed a lot of time to get myself to write this, didn't I? I'm so sorry. But my best friend (Mirri/Keimos) just moved to another city last weekend and I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, because I'll hardly ever see her from now on. I hope you understand…

Besides, I knew this chapter would come for a long time, and it really scared me. I think it is my personal horror-chapter of this fic because I just never knew how exactly to write. So please try to forgive me if it sucks… ^^

Chapter VI 

By Kia

*** ***

"Alexandria?" Zidane's voice sounded strange as he looked at Blank with eyes that seemed just too large in the dim twilight that filled the room. "No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Blank asked, even though he knew the answer.

"'No, I'm not going there." 

"You are!" the redhead grumbled. "It was hard enough for us to find a doctor who isn't only able to help you but also willing to do it. So you are going there, or we will make you." The tone of his voice left no room for complaining. "The Boss spoke with the Queen, you can stay at the castle while you are there."  Blank saw his friend flinch a little at the mention of Queen Garnet, probably remembering their almost romance a long time ago, and he almost regretted reminding him. The redhead never knew what exactly happened between the two of them, but he supposed that they'd be able to get along for a little while. And if not, well, the castle was large enough to stay away from each other for a long time if needed. Still, Zidane didn't look very happy about it.

"I don't need a doctor!" he explained. "I'm fine, you know?"

"For sure!" was all Blank said as he looked at his friend. Zidane didn't look 'fine', though not as bad as two days ago, when he scared the hell out of him and everyone else. But he was still pale, with dark circles under his eyes and an exhausted expression on his face.

"But I _am_ feeling better!" the blonde boy said with a hint of desperation in his voice. Apparently he really didn't want to go. Blank only shook his head.

"Like the last time you were 'feeling better', hu? No way!" Zidane tried to say something but Blank cut him off, thinking that this would have been far more easy if Baku had lead this conversation instead of him.  "You are going! Marcus organised a place on a airship for you. It's leaving tomorrow." 

Again Zidane opened his mouth to speak but this time stopped himself. He leaned back against the pillow, suddenly looking very tired.

"Whatever." he said and closed his eyes.

***

The next afternoon Zidane was standing in front of the ship, cuddled into a too large coat though it wasn't even that cold anymore. Only Blank and Marcus were with him since the others had some business to do somewhere else. 

The ship was starting from a meadow outside Lindblum. The sky was grey though it didn't look like it would rain anytime soon and a cool wind blew through the high grass, though not cool enough to make them frown. It was a strange day, Blank couldn't help but think. Like the time had stopped just for this one moment.

After their talk the day before Zidane had stopped complaining, silently accepting his fate. Blank had told him he'd follow as soon as possible to be there for him if he was needed, but Zidane had just smiled, and shook his head. It had made Blank feel strange, uneasy, but he didn't knew why.

Now he was leaving and somehow it felt like forever. Blank wanted to say something but couldn't for he found no words, nothing, and the time kept standing for just a little bit longer. The words were there, he knew it, but he couldn't find them, and when he did, they wouldn't leave his mouth. So he just waited until Marcus ruffled Zidane's hair and told him to be good, and Zidane said something in return Blank couldn't understand, but whatever it was, it made Marcus laugh and playfully slap his head. Then the old ship was ready to start and Blank saw his friend turn around and walk on board, saw him turn around again and wave as it left the ground, saw the wind playing with his hair. He saw him standing at the railing as the ship moved farther and farther away form them, heard his voice, carried trough the air when the ship was just too far away for anyone to reach.

"Ne, Blank." Zidane said and he smiled. Only at Blank, and his smile just made him want do cry. "Goodbye."

Then he was gone and the time started moving again, and Blank felt himself running through the grass, screaming Zidane's name while the ship was already far above the earth, moving higher and higher to join with the clouds.

***

The sky was still grey, light grey, not dark but with no ray of light coming through the clouds. It was a sad colour, but also comforting, as the ship entered the cloud, the ground invisible as if it wouldn't exist.

The wind blew stronger here, and still it was a calm moment, frozen in time. For Zidane the world had yet to start turning again and he knew it never would.

The pain in his lungs was still there, never leaving, just coming back with every breath he took but right now it seemed so very far away. As if it belonged to someone else, not him. Still he knew that it would probably kill him. He had felt Death place a hand on his shoulder already and it hadn't left since them. It could pull him down any time, he knew it and felt no fear, felt nothing in the serene emptiness inside him.

He wanted it to stay, but he knew, once the river of time started flowing again the emptiness would leave and the pain would take its place once again.

Zidane looked up to the grey clouds around him and thought that maybe this was his punishment for letting his brother die. But how could it be? How could a painful death be worse than a life without him? A life with nothing but pain and guilt and loss to fill his heart? No, that couldn't be it. Maybe it was rather a helpful hand to get him out of the pain that was eating him from inside since Kuja had decided to escape his own pain the easy way. He didn't need it, though.

Maybe he was alone on deck, maybe not. Zidane could see no one around him nor did he care as he climbed onto the railing and sad down on it, letting his legs hang freely into nothingness.

A lone feather somehow got stuck in the wood beside him, fluttering helplessly in the wind. Zidane smiled a little as he watched it tremble as if trying to get away. Then he reached out and freed it, keeping it in the hollow of his hands for a moment, thinking of Blank. Guilt stuck him once again as he realised that he was about to leave his friend just the same way Kuja left him. He had thought he was stronger than that.

But after along time of struggling against the hope to be free from pain and, just maybe, meet Kuja again he'd given up. The calling of peace and silence was too strong.

Slowly, he lifted his hands up to his face and softly brushed his lips against the feather he was still holding.

"I'm sorry." he whispered quietly and hoped that Blank would understand. 

He remembered the look on his face when he left him, when Blank finally understood the meaning of his words and a sad smile touched his lips as he looked at the feather one more time, hoping that Blank would somehow get his message and someday, maybe, would be able to forgive him.

Since he couldn't forgive himself.

Then he opened his hand and let the feather go, small and soft and white, just sitting there in silence and watching it as it was blown away by the wind.

-tbc-

August 7, 2002

Oh, yay, pretty awful, ne? I don't know if I'm contend with it… Uh, anyway, there are only two more parts to write. Then it's finally finished… ^^

Hmm, theoretically FFN has to go down for another few days just in this moment, because it usually does that almost every time I want to upload something… Hm, does that mean if I stop uploading FFN would never go down again? Maybe I should just try it… ^^


	8. chapter 7

Almost finished now. ^^ Took me quiet long again, ne? Sorry, but I had to translate another part of Keimos' fic and I had to kill Squall (Just to piss off Laguna ^^) and, oh well, school sure doesn't help, too. T_T And I'm soo tired right now….

Chapter VII 

By Kia

*** ***

_"The boss has sure taught you a lesson this time, huh?"_

_"Oh, shut up, Blank! I don't need to hear that."_

_"Who cares? It's your own fault. You should have known better."_

_"I did."_

_"Then why…"_

_"Just because. Leave it, okay, Blank? I'm tired."_

_"I bet. That looks quite painful."_

_"Ouch! Keep your hands off, idiot! Just leave me alone!"_

_"Oh, pardon me, your mighty! I just wanted to help. Don't worry, I won't do that ever again."_

_"….    Sorry. I'm just a little pissed off."_

_"I see.   Where have you been, anyway?"_

_"Away."_

_"To do what?"_

_"Can't tell you."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Because it sounds too stupid."_

*** ***

It was going to rain. The sky was dark already, very dark and it the distance, still far away but slowly coming nearer, lightning tore across the sky, a low growling of thunder filling the air, that grew louder with every minute. The room was dark, only the last remains of the day's light fell through the window in an useless attempt to lighten it up.

Blank sat in the old wooden chair by the window, not looking out but onto the floor at his feet. He sat there for hours, when he had entered the room it was bright outside, and the dark clouds had been still so far away.

Now they were hanging above his head as if to never leave there. The boy could hardly see the floor now, soon, all there would be was darkness, but he wasn't really seeing it anyway, only saw Zidane's pale face in his minds eye and heard his voice over the distant sound of thunder.

'_Goodbye_.'

Marcus hadn't understood what it was that made him break down after the ship had disappeared between the clouds and Blank didn't even try to explain it to him. Still, the angry tears kept falling against his will when he realised that what had to happen would happen and there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do about it. This feeling of helplessness soon turned to desperation and anger, but beside screaming his bitter curses into the sky he hadn't said anything since then, hadn't even bothered to hope that maybe he was wrong and everything would turn out all right. Somehow, he knew it was over.

*** ***

_"Oh, back so early? Something wrong with your date?"_

_"…  I don't want to talk about it."_

_"Ha! I knew it! Like any girl would be attracted to someone like you!"_

_"Oh, like you've got any more luck with girls, huh?"_

_"The girls love me, they just don't show it!"_

_"For sure! They wouldn't even look at you when I'm near."_

_"Really? Then how comes I've never actually seen you with a girl? Nor has anyone else."_

_"Says who?_

_"Marcus. And Cinna. Ruby too. You know, I think the girls are running from you…"_

_"Watch your mouth, little one, I'm still bigger than you!"_

_"Ouch! Stop pulling on my tail, that's mean! You don't even have one!"_

_"Lucky me! Now say you're sorry!"_

_"Never!"_

_"Zidane!"_

_"Ouch! Meanie!"_

*** ***

The thunder sounded nearer now. Still, there was no rain. But the streets ware deserted already, only very few people could be seen outside their houses and all of them walking in a hurry to get back in as soon as possible.

Blank lifted his head and looked out of the window for the first time in hours. A figure came running towards the building, running to the door. It was Cinna, clutching his hammer as if his life would depend on it. He was keeping his head down so that Blank couldn't see his face from his place above him but he knew, be the way he was moving, by the way he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, by the way he stumbled into the house what news he had to tell them.

Blank just moved his head and continued to stare on the floor.

*** ***

_"It's broken."_

_"I can see that."_

_"We could fix it, I guess."_

_"Yeah, but I wanted to give it to Ruby as a birthday present, maybe than she'll stop being mad at me. But giving it to her when it is already broken won't help, I guess."_

_"You're probably right, it would only piss her off even more."_

_"I'll have to get a new one."_

_"I'm still going to fix this one, not need to waste it. But I'll help you with getting a new one. I mean, it's partly my fault it broke, too."_

_"To be correct it was your chocobo and my carelessness. But it won't be easy to get a new one so fast."_

_"Doesn't matter, we'll make it somehow. I think the rich guy who lives near Alice's shop has one. Would be easy to steal it."_

_"Thank you, Zidane."_

_"Ha, no problem, I'm the best, forgot?"_

_"How could I…"_

*** ***

Time had passed, but not much, or maybe an eternity, when Blank heard footsteps coming closer. He turned his head a little to look at the door, expecting it to open and it did, letting light fall into the room from outside. Marcus stood there but didn't enter, just stood in the open door and looked at him. Like some days ago he was just a dark shadow outlined by the light and something deep inside Blank was glad, for this made it impossible for him so see his face. He himself just sat there staring back at him and waited motionless and strangely calm for his friend to finally find the words he came here to say.

"Blank…" he began after a while and his voice sounded so alien to him, like the voice of a stranger.  "I'm so sorry…"

Blank just took a deep breath and looked away, to the floor or maybe out of the window, it didn't matter. The door closes again but the sound never really reached his mind as he sat there and wondered why his hand were trembling so hard. He had known it, had known it for so long and he hadn't ever doubted that it was true. So why, why, _why_ did it still hurt so much? What was it that made his hands tremble and his eyes water? Zidane was just an idiot, it was his own fault, his own will, his own stupidity that something like this had to happen. So what exactly was it that made his heart ace so much now?

That made the thought of a world without his seem so impossible to bear?

*** ***

_" Where have you been, anyway?"_

_"Away."_

_"To do what?"_

_"Can't tell you."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Because it sounds too stupid."_

_"It can't be that stupid if it made you leave without a word and stay away for almost two month."_

_"…"_

_"Zidane?"_

_"I… I just… wanted to find something, you know?"_

_"Something? Something what?"_

_"My… my home…my  family and such…"_

_"Oh…"_

_"See? Stupid, ne? I knew I wouldn't find it without remembering more than the colour of the light, and still…"_

_"Zidane? Are you crying…?"_

_"…No…"_

_"Listen, kid. Sometimes it's okay to cry. I promise I won't tell anyone."_

_"That sounds so strange coming from you, Blank."_

_"Well, I guess I can somehow understand you. Maybe I would do the same if I was in your situation. It's not so stupid at all. And maybe someday you will find your home, if you keep looking for it."_

_"Blank…"_

_"But remember, until you find it this will be your home and we will be your family. A family is more than sharing the same blood, you know? And when you need someone, I will always be there for you. Never forget that.."_

_"Okay, Blank._

_                           Thank you"._

-tbc-

September 1, 2002

This didn't quite turn out how it should have. I wish it could have been better but for now I'm glad that it's done. I'm hungry, my head hurts and I'm dead tired. Good night. ^^ Until the epilogue, I hope.

(Hmm, I wonder what exactly it was Blank wanted to give Ruby… ^____^)


	9. epilogue

Hm... it's been quite some time since the last chapter, huh? Well, that has a reason, kind of…

When I decided to make this a longer story I also decided only to write the next part after getting at least three reviews. That was also to avoid me writing too fast, so I'd have an excuse for having a little pause between the chapters. And, of course, I wanted to get some feedback too, of course. And three reviews aren't that much, some people get so much more, so I thought I should be able to get them.

Well, I wasn't. And that's also my reason for hesitating for so long before I kicked myself into writing this damned last part. At first I waited because I was still hoping to get at least one more review and the I waited because I was too demoralised. Writing fanfics is no fun when you don't get any feedback at all…

But, I got at least one comment. And since I once promised I would continue this story as long as the was even one single person who liked it I had to finish this. Besides, I hate leaving stories unfinished. So here it finally is, the next and very last part.

Epilogue By Kia 

***

Spring is coming. Now we can finally feel it. The air is so much warmer now than it was some weeks ago and the first flowers are already blooming on the meadow I'm walking on.  It's kind of pretty. After hesitating for so long to come I think spring is going to be really nice this year.

Too bad Zidane won't be here to see it.

No, I find myself thinking again, spring won't be pretty, or nice. How can anything be, without him? And then again I kick myself mentally and think that it is his own fault, after all, and that I shouldn't let what he did spoil everything. He was a fool to do what he did, and I am a fool to still think about him. Forget that idiot! is what I use to tell myself when I sit in the darkness of my room at night and the scent of him that still hangs in the air is making all those images appear before my mind's eye. These images are all good, telling stories of a time that was filled with laughter and fun and trust and affection so I don't understand why they're always filling my eyes with tears. _Forget him_. As if it was that simple.

I sigh and stop for a moment in my steps to look around me. No matter what I feel inside it _is_ pretty here. Spring will indeed be nice, even without him. Somehow that thought seems unfair to me.

But I guess that's only natural. Right now it seems wrong that the world is still turning, a world in that the person that meant most to me doesn't exist anymore, but this feeling will pass after a while, I know. I only have to keep my head up until then, I only have to hold on long enough. The pain will never go away, but eventually it will fade away and become a normal part of my life. Someday I will be able to think about him and smile with the memory of all the good times we had, be happy because we had those times and not sad because they're over. Someday… I only have to repeat that thought often enough to believe myself and I can make it.

But I know life will never again be like it has been. Zidane has been a too large part of my world for it to remain whole without him. I can tell myself that I might be able to fix it someday or at least to life without it but deep inside I know that it is all a big lie. And once I'll stop being mad at him for leaving so cowardly, so unfair and without saying anything and start thinking about his reasons, once the anger is gone there'll be nothing to protect my heart from the pain his death has caused me. It's been three weeks, but somehow I still haven't really realised that he is gone. That he isn't here anymore and that this year will pass without him and the next year too and the year after that. But the day will come eventually and I'm afraid of it. I may not have yet realised his death but I already fear the moment that I do.

My steps lead me up a hill now, and though it isn't a big one I can see pretty far from it's top, see all of this green grass and colourful flowers and the gates of the city in the distance. There are a few trees on the top of the hill and in their shadow there is a small gravestone, marking the place where Zidane now lies. It is quiet here and all in all it is a beautiful place, especially in spring. He would have liked it.

As I stand before that stone that has his name written on it and nothing else I suddenly remember something he'd told me once, about some Black Mage who waited day after day in the graveyard of their village for his friend to come out of the earth he was buried in so they could play with each other again. I wish I was that naïve too.

The thought of the Black Mages reminds me of Vivi. Poor little Guy.

He's always admired you the most, Zidane. I don't know how you could disappoint him so.

Poor little Black Mage.

I think he took the news harder than anyone else, though Eiko ran off screaming and Freya had tears in her eyes while Vivi didn't cry at all. He only said that Zidane wouldn't want us to be sad and though he also admitted that he was sad none the less he told me that he would try not to give in to his sadness. He would try to just move on with his life because he thought that was what Zidane would have wanted.

He thought Zidane wouldn't want him to cry so he didn't. The memory of his words still bring tears to my eyes though I don't know why. But Vivi's so strong at heart, so honest to himself. I sometimes wish I could be a little bit more like him.

He always wanted to be like you, Zid, did you know that? He misses you now. Everyone else does too. Did you ever think of that?

….  I miss you.

Little Idiot.

The mental image of him pouting at my words makes me smile a little. There is wetness on my cheeks, though. But I pay no attention to it as I reach out to pick up a small white feather that somehow got caught in the high grass right before the gravestone. I hold it between two fingers and look at it for a moment. I makes me think of Kuja because feathers always make me think of Kuja and Kuja makes me think of Zidane, but who else should I be thinking of, standing before his gravestone?

I hope you two are happy now.

Kuja… take care of him for me.

And don't you dare hurting him ever again!

I slowly turn and step out of the shadows, back into the sunlight that feel warm on my skin, and sit down onto the high grass. Then I sigh and lay back to look up to the sky that is blue and clear with only a few clouds moving across it when it should be dark any rainy. One more sign how unimpressed the world is by the loss of just one more person.

Even if it was the person who saved it.

I sigh again and look at the feather once more before I let it go. It gets caught in a breeze and my gaze follows its way as it is carried away by the wind, as it moves higher and higher, up to the sky.

There are some words that want to be said, for so long already, four little words that are so silly and useless yet burn on my tongue like fire, so send them after it, up to the sky, because it doesn't really matter anymore.

"I love you, Zidane." I whisper, and it sounds so hollow, so meaningless with nobody to hear it but me. And my eyes never leave that small white feather until it disappears and becomes a part of the sky while I still lay down here on earth, staring at the clouds and saying those words as if he could hear me.

-end-

18.10.2002

Sorry again for taking so long. And, thanks to all people who did review (I love you!^^)and who probably wouldn't like how this story turned out in the end.

I'm sorry, but not every story has a happy ending.


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